


I Want to Sleep on Every Bit of Fuzz and Stuffing that Comes Out

by EveryDayBella



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Depression, M/M, Medication, Recovery, Therapy, because they do, gratuitous use of I love you, soft boys being soft to each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:31:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryDayBella/pseuds/EveryDayBella
Summary: “So, does this therapist know I exist?”Jamie breaths out a sigh of relief. “The one in Victoria? Yeah. I mean, he doesn’t know who you are cause I didn’t want to do that to you without your permission. But he knows you exist, and what you are to me.”“And um,” Tyler starts and then stops uncharacteristically uncertain. “They don’t think I’m, like, a problem? Like the reason you’re ... ya know?“What? God, Tyler, no.” Jamie dries his hands, moving to stand between Tyler’s legs. “It's not you. It's just my brain. Its chemicals that don’t work right. Or something. I’m a hockey player, not a doctor. But it's not you. You’re a good thing to me.”





	I Want to Sleep on Every Bit of Fuzz and Stuffing that Comes Out

**Author's Note:**

> Much love Ali, Twifey, and Packie for reading and commenting and being generally awesome. I love you guys.
> 
> All mistakes my own.

****

Jamie wakes up sometime in the night blinking and blurry at the darkness. The alarm clock is still hours away from going off. The dogs are snoring at the foot of the bed and Tyler is starfished a cross it. Jamie smiles, hooking his own arm underneath Tyler’s and goes back to sleep. 

 

* * *

 

“So that's what I did.” Jamie admits softly, telling himself that he doesn’t have to be ashamed of it, but that doesn’t always work. This time his eyes remain glued to the dishes he’s washing and not on Tyler sitting on the cabinet next to him and throwing a ball for the dogs while they talk. “And what I’m taking. Its working right now, but they still want to play with it and see if it’ll work better, I guess.”

 

“Huh.” Tyler makes a noncommittal sound and Jamie almost panics thinking Tyler isn’t okay with his off season decisions. “So, does this therapist know I exist?”

 

Jamie breaths out a sigh of relief. “The one in Victoria? Yeah. I mean, he doesn’t know who you are cause I didn’t want to do that to you without your permission. But he knows you exist, and what you are to me.”

 

“And um,” Tyler starts and then stops uncharacteristically uncertain. “They don’t think I’m, like, a problem? Like the reason you’re ... ya know?

 

“What? God, Tyler, no.” Jamie dries his hands, moving to stand between Tyler’s legs. “It's not you. It's just my brain. Its chemicals that don’t work right. Or something. I’m a hockey player, not a doctor. But it's not you. You’re a good thing to me.”

 

Tyler smiles, not the megawatt, showy one that he saved for cameras and fans, but the smaller, sweeter one that is meant for Jamie and Jamie alone. He tightens a fist in Jamie’s shirt, holding on to him the same way Jamie’s arms around his waist holds him close. “I’m glad you’re doing something to help you. You were miserable last year and that hurt me. I didn’t know how to help.”

 

“You did.” Jamie assures him vowing to himself then and there from that moment forward, Tyler is going to know exactly how Jamie feels about him and how lucky he is to have him. “I love you, you know.”

 

His smirk grows sharper even as a soft pink blush creeps up his cheeks. “You don’t love me, you just love my body.” 

 

Jamie chuckles, finally kissing the smirk from his lips, pulling him forward on the counter so that their bodies can mold and contour to each other’s. “Maybe your dogs too.” Jamie teases. 

 

Tyler laughs against his lips and it’s the most intoxicating flavor that Jamie has ever tasted. He can’t resist tasting it again. This is the way Jamie loves Tyler best. All his sharp edges dulled till he’s loose and pliant in his arms. 

 

If there is any one reason to get better, then it's in his arms in that moment. 

 

* * *

 

 

Hockey has always been his favorite thing. It's what he’s always worked hard for to get to where he is now. Somewhere along the way he’s afraid he’s forgotten how to have fun with it. It became a job, something he had to work for and prove himself over. 

 

His Dallas therapist tells him that's something his depression can do. It can steal all joy and wonder from the things he loves doing. He tells Jamie he should start trying to steal moments to skate with nothing in his mind but play. Not working out new methods of shooting or line combinations. Just him, and the ice, and a puck, and a stick. 

 

“They call it play for a reason, Jamie. Its supposed to fun. You just need to rediscover that.”

 

Getting rink time isn’t easy, but he works it out. He starts leaving Tyler warm in bed and going to practice early. He gets fifteen or twenty minutes. No pads, no helmets, nothing on his mind but how fast he can go or how he likes the feeling of a stick in his hand. It comes slowly and then all at once, the simple enjoyment of this thing he loves and had forgotten about. 

 

Tyler doesn’t say anything about it. Just brings him coffee when he shows up for practice and kisses his cheek with a soft affection that no one would expect from Tyler. This is something that Jamie forgot he loved too. 

 

Its Spezz who mentions it to him toward the end of practice one day, about how much happier Jamie seems, and how it's improved his game. Jamie flushes gently, still uncertain how to take a compliment. But it's a good thing to know, that taking care of himself also means taking care of his team. 

 

* * *

 

Luds tells him day one day that he looks good on the ice. Jamie smiles and rushes to assure him that he feels good. It's a heady thing, this knowledge, that he feels good. There’s no pressure on his chest. He doesn’t feel like he’s moving through a fog. He can think and feel and not feel like he’s drowning with every breath that fills his lungs.

 

He’s happy. 

 

That in and of itself is overwhelming. He’s happy. He doesn’t think he remembers how to be happy. His face actually feels tired because of all the smiling he’s been doing. He feels good. He’s doing something he loves doing, with people he loves doing it with. And he has Tyler who makes him feel giddy and stupid in the best ways. 

 

There’s part of him, the dark, morous, anxiety ridden part of him, that he doesn’t like, that's afraid it's all going to go away. That everything is going to go back to the way it was before. That all the colors are going to get bleached out and he’s going to be lost, and lonely, and alone again. 

 

Jamie really doesn’t want that to happen. He couldn’t stand it. He works himself into such a state that he starts waking up with panic attacks that scare Tyler to death. 

 

Jamie can’t have that. Tyler has already been through too much because of him. 

 

He brings up these new layers of fears to his therapist and he’s honest. “It’s going to happen. Life is made of ups and downs. It's just the way it's going to be. The trick is to remember the things that make you happy, that bring you peace even when you’re depressed.”

 

He tells Jamie to make a list, but Jamie is also busy and it takes time before he can sit down and think about this. Finally there’s a moment of calm and Jamie sits at the kitchen table while Tyler goes around making one of their meal kits for dinner. The dogs follow in his wake and there’s fun, upbeat music blasting through the sound system. 

 

The list starts out fairly simple. His mom and dad make him happy. Jordie and Jenny make him happy. The scrape of skates against fresh, clean ice is like music to his ears. The satisfying whack of a perfectly timed shot and the celly that follows. 

 

He looks up, his eyes tired from staring at paper and blue ink. Tyler is at the stove, Marshell, Cash, and Gerry sitting at his feet. He’s dancing in place, if what he’s doing can be called dancing, smiling, and singing along with the radio. Jamie snickers as Tyler shakes his ass. When Tyler hears him, and since he’s a total attention whore, he starts doing it bigger and grander than before until he’s all but twerking in front of the oven. 

 

Jamie doubles over laughing, head on the table while the dogs start barking and Tyler snickers at the ruckus he’s made. 

 

Later after they’ve eaten, and made out like teenagers, and Jamie has fucked Tyler silly, he comes back to the list. It's not a bad list, but something is clearly missing. 

 

He adds simply  _ Tyler  _ to the top. 

 

* * *

 

Jamie has a lot of medications to take now, and he doesn’t always want to take them all. There’s always this voice nagging him that the drugs are changing him in ways that he’s not meant to be changed. Or that they don’t let people with depression and anxiety play hockey so he better just learn to not have any of that.

 

He’s usually good at reminding himself that it's a disease like any other, that the drugs are just helping him be what he wants to be for himself and his family. 

 

Sometimes he can’t. Sometimes he leaves the house with the pills still in the bottle, untaken and left alone. 

 

Every time, though, when Tyler hands him his coffee in the morning, the pills are next without a word and the same kiss on the cheek as always. 

 

The quiet non-judgemental acceptance is usually enough to encourage Jamie take them. 

 

* * *

 

They have a really bad road trip dropping three games in disastrous fashion. It's not a good thing and the whole team is kinda down, Jamie not the least of them. He loves his team, and the guys he leads, the fans they have, and of course it hurts when they lose and embarrass themselves. It's not fun.

 

Jamie is constantly reminding himself that they’re in a bad spot and he can be sad. Sad is an emotion that he’s allowed to feel, he just can’t use it as an excuse to either get frustrated, or to mope and wallow. He’s trying to stay positive and not let his mood get to anyone else. 

 

Tyler organizes the night out for everybody. Not a bar, because in their moods that's just asking for trouble, but he knows a place. A round of backyard golf and then barbeque at his (their) house. Surprisingly, it works. They’re in good a mood for a little while at least and team-bonding can only help in the long run. 

 

Parties are still really not Jamie’s thing. Having to be on for that long is exhausting, but it's at least in their home and Jamie is comfortable. This is one of those things that he knows he just has to do sometimes.

 

And this honestly isn't so bad. He’s got a drink, just one because they can do screwy things with his medications, and he’s old enough that hanging out in the background with the other guys, shooting the shit, and watching the younger guys make fools of themselves is accepted these days. 

 

That Cash never wanders far from his side isn’t something he stops to think about. 

 

It’s Dan who makes the comment about how much happier Jamie seems this year to which Jamie shrugs. Tyler knowing all his dark and ridiculous secrets is one thing. He doesn’t want the rest of the team knowing everything. 

 

“He’s right you know.” Spezz nudges his shoulder in that friendly supportive way he has. “Usually after a road trip like that you’d be all mullish and moopy on us. I’ve even seen Tyler have trouble with you then. But this time you’re just letting it roll off your back. It’s a good thing.”

 

Jamie fights down the flush in his cheeks, thinking about nothing but chickens and other boring things. It’s too late, though, he’s beet red and embarrassed, but a good kind of embarrassed. It’s nice to know that all the work he’s been putting in on himself is paying off for them as well. 

 

* * *

 

Of course that doesn’t mean that every day is a good day. The bad days are still just as present and maybe just a little worse because Jamie knows what they are now. Days when he has to force himself up to go to practice early are painful and the temptation to pull the covers over his head and ignore the world are almost impossible to ignore. It’s the days when just making it to game time is a victory in and of itself. Days when his anxiety tells him that he has to get better because they don’t let people like him play hockey, especially not with people like Tyler.

 

It’s days when everything is just tiring, when the ever present fog just thickens over his head and it's all he can do to just breath and get through it. It’s hard, and would be a little annoying, if Jamie could feel anything on those days but exhaustion.

 

Tyler always seems to know these days without being told. He’ll hang extra close, pressing into his shoulder or his side so Jamie can feel him. After practice or a game, he’ll pull Jamie into a puppy pile on the couch, close and warm, but also sweet and uncomplicated where he doesn’t have to think or feel anything. It’s best on the days where Jamie feels irrationally lonely, like he isn’t surrounded by people who love and care for him. He just can’t feel it. When he feels like he’s alone with nothing more than his head and he honestly thinks he might cry with the weight of it, Tyler is right there taking up space and making a noise. Smiling at Jamie like there’s something special about him. 

 

It doesn’t make the bad days go away, but it does make them survivable. 

 

* * *

 

“Sometimes I think I don’t appreciate Tyler enough.” Jamie had finally told his Dallas therapist who his boyfriend was, with Tyler’s permission of course. He comes up so often that Jamie felt like it was time to be honest.

 

“Why not?” The therapist questions back in that way that mildly annoyed Jamie. “Does he seem unhappy with you and what you're going through?”

 

“No.” Jamie rushes to explain. “He’s actually been great about it. He makes sure I take my pills even on days when I don’t want to, and he’s always there when I need him. He’s the best really, but sometimes I just think I take him for granted a little.”

 

There’s silence in the room which makes Jamie nervous, fidgeting in his seat and trying to find anything else to focus o,n but his therapist and the way he seems to be considering something. Probably something Jamie doesn’t want to deal with if Jamie knew him at all. 

 

“You told me once that last year, when things were bad, that things between you and Tyler weren’t so great either?”

 

“Yeah.” Jamie agrees and he had been right. It had been something that he didn’t want to think about. “I mean, we were fighting a lot, but it wasn’t his fault. If anything it was both our faults. We were just stretched really thin and nothing was going our way. And I kinda took the fact that I was injured out on him which I have already apologized for like a million times.”

 

“Why do you think this is? Why do you think it was Tyler who got the brunt of everything you were feeling.”

 

Jamie shrugs. The simple answer is that Tyler is the one who’s there. Tyler is the only one that didn’t get pushed away as much. But something also tells Jamie that isn’t the answer he’s looking for, as shitty as it is.

 

“I don’t know?” Jamie finally tries. “I mean, he’s Tyler. He’s everything to me.”

 

The therapist hums and Jamie rolls his eyes. “Okay, let’s try another angle. You told me you knew you were bi when you’re a teenager. But did you ever date a guy since that point? Or was Tyler the first?”

 

That answer is easy. “Tyler was the first. I hooked up with a couple guys sometimes, but Tyler was the first one that was worth the risk.”

 

“What risk?”

 

“The risk. We’re professional athletes. I mean, the world’s come a long way, but there’s still a way to go. Tyler and I could loose everything we’ve worked for if the wrong person found out about us. Playing for a team in Dallas doesn’t really help that.”

 

“Does Tyler scare you?”

 

Jamie opens his mouth to deny it, but then closes it. The truth is that when they first got together Tyler scared the shit out of him. He was all bright, live wire, impulsiveness. Jamie never knew what to expect of him and that scared him. That feeling had settled the more they got used to being a ‘them’. Jamie figured out Tyler’s boundaries and Jamie learned to trust him. 

 

But last year… 

 

“Maybe he scared me. A little bit. Which is stupid. He never gave me a reason not to trust him.”

 

“He didn’t need to. You were scared everything else was falling apart and your brain translated that as Tyler.”

 

“That’s shitty.” Jamie mumbles feeling like shit. 

 

“It is, but you also couldn’t see it. That’s okay. The question is what do you do from here?”

 

* * *

 

The next morning they have off, Jamie gets up early, leaving Tyler warm and safe in their bed. This time rather than head to the rink to mess around for a while, he lets the dogs out and brews his own coffee. 

 

There’s eggs and sausage, bacon, and cans of biscuits in the fridge which Jamie all pulls out. He soon has all three dogs sitting at his feet and the smell of yeast and salty breakfast meats filling the air. If he sneaks the dogs little bits of food along the way, no one needs to know how soft he has gotten. 

 

The appearance of Tyler happens like it always does this early in the morning. In nothing but a pair of black boxers leaving pale skin and dark ink on full display and knuckling his eye like a child dragged from bed. Jamie has a picture of it somewhere on his phone for him and him alone when he misses Tyler desperately in the summers. 

 

“I woke up and you were gone.” Tyler pouts while lazily greeting the dogs. He then yawns widely and pushes wayward curls out of his eyes. It's time for a haircut, but he’s oddly against the idea. 

 

“Sorry. I was trying to surprise you.” Jamie smiles and motions at the spread he has going on the stove. “Surprise! Breakfast.”

 

Tyler smiles softly, the way he only does early in the mornings when he’s still half asleep and soft with it all. He then drapes himself along Jamie's back like a warm, weighted blanket, tucking his face into Jamie’s neck. “Smells awesome. What’s the occasion? The blowie I gave you last night wasn’t that good.”

 

“Don’t sell yourself short. It was pretty good.” Tyler’s answering chuckle tickles the sensitive skin at the base of Jamie’s neck which makes him squirm and Tyler moan and poke at his side to get him to be still. “No, its just cause.”

 

“You don’t do anything, ‘just cause.” Tyler pulls his face away, popping his chin on Jamie’s shoulder instead. “I do things just because the whim takes me, but you have like a purpose to everything.”

 

“Is that a bad thing?”

 

“Nah. It’s just a Jamie thing.”

 

“Now, I’m blushing.”

 

“Aw man, and I can’t see it. You know how I love making you blush.”

 

“If you could see my face right now, we’d be back upstairs and breakfast would burn.”

 

“You say that like its a bad thing.”

 

“Focus, Tyler, bacon.”

 

Tyler pauses for a moment and then nods. “Okay fair. But I need coffee.”

 

“In the pot. Help yourself.”

 

Tyler scampers over pouring a mug and adding a sickening amount of sugar. “Pills?”

 

Jamie has to pause to think and then grimaces. “I think I forgot, but it was accident.”

 

“It’s cool.” Tyler takes them from the drawer and places them unobtrusively next to Jamie on the counter, sneaking a kiss to his cheek just like always. 

 

“That’s actually what this is kinda about.” Jamie explains, while Tyler leans against his side now, sipping his coffee and working on waking up. “It’s a thank you. I wanted you to know that I appreciate everything you’ve done since you found out about me and my stuff.”

 

“Why?” Tyler shrugs, the middle of his brow scrunched up in confusion. “It’s nothing. I just want you to be happy.”

 

“Yeah, but not everyone would have been as great about it as you were, are. And I know I was kind of a dick last year, but you stuck with me anyway.”

 

Tyler is silent for a moment and Jamie tries not to panic. Silent Tyler isn’t normal, but he tries sometimes when he thinks Jamie needs to know that he’s being serious about something. “I want you to be happy.” Tyler finally says. “If this is what it takes then that’s what it takes. There’s nothing wrong with that. You helped me through shit after Boston. This is the least I can do. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.” That’s all that needs to be said.

 

* * *

 

Jamie still wakes up sometimes in the dead of the night. Tyler is still starfished across the mattress. The dogs still snore at the foot of the bed. There’s still uncertain hockey in the morning, fans to please, and their teammates to deal with. It’s not the worst life in the world. Jamie plasters himself along Tyler’s back, and wills himself back asleep. 

 


End file.
